Blackberries
by xThe Painted Lady
Summary: 'You're beautiful.' Those words meant nothing to her, because a mask is a mask and it remains for a reason. Victoire can't pull herself away. *to be revised*


_**A/N: **Written for the HPFC Fic Exchange._

_**Prompt: **__Pairing: Victoire Weasley/Teddy Lupin Rating: K-T (no M)_ _Must Haves: It doesn't really HAVE to have anything, I want to be surprised._ _No-No's-No doing it. In any way. They can't hate each other, either._ _Bonus Points: If Bill and Fleur are in it, and Bill gets mad that Victoire's dating, but Fleur calms him down._

_**Warning:** As stated in the summary, this is being edited and at a very slow rate, unfortunately. So just beware the horridness in the SPaG department. **  
**_

_For owluvr :)_

* * *

She was leaning against the outside wall of her family's cottage, tiny fingers tracing lines across her lips. Black, sticky and stained hands brushed the hair out of her face and she smiled down at herself as she moved towards the end of the shore, just before the edge, just before the early morning tide waiting to move in. Water brushed and tickled her feet and toes. Victoire giggled, and as any three year old girl would, gazed into the image of her face reflecting in the water and smiled. She was pretty.

Pretty, and she knew it. But it wasn't that she was arrogant, no, three year olds were not arrogant. They were innocent, and just like their mothers, wanted to be beautiful.

Victoire had observed her mother through her little, bright blue eyes for as long she could remember the first time she found the strength in her knees to walk. Daddy would always call mummy beautiful, and he would always call Victoire pretty. But Victoire wanted to be like her mother, beautiful, not just pretty, beautiful.

She mentally took notes. Mummy would spend ages, sometimes even hours looking herself in the mirror, painting her face.

Painting, that never made sense to Victoire. Only clowns painted their faces. Why would mummy be doing that to her face? She wasn't a clown. Why would she cover up her pretty face?

It may have taken a while, but Victoire soon discovered mummy didn't paint her face to cover it up - it didn't make her look like a clown.

It made her look beautiful.

And that's what Victoire wanted to be.

Beautiful.

But mummy never let Victoire anywhere near her makeup. She would snap at her whenever she spotted the little girl sneaking her hands in through the cupboard, she would yell at Victoire, she would yank the little makeup packs out of her small hands, and Victoire would always end up crying. Why would mummy do that to her? Makeup made mummy beautiful, and Victoire only wanted to be beautiful, just like her.

But Victoire kept trying to take her mother's makeup - she kept trying to apply it to her face whenever she wasn't looking, and she kept trying to make herself beautiful, but always to no avail. Victoire never went a day without her mother catching her in the act, or of course, one couldn't miss the smudges of eye shadow padded messily across the young girl's face. She clearly had attempted to apply it herself, and succeeded, but it never stayed. Fleur couldn't let Victoire remain like that. Her skin would be ruined, her beautiful skin. She would know, hers already had been.

So she would wash the makeup away from her daughter's face, and she would look normal again, she would look pretty, beautiful again. But to Victoire, she didn't. She looked plain, she looked pale, and she didn't look beautiful. And soon, little Victoire had to find another way to make herself beautiful. And she had adopted the use of several other things before she settled on one, one that worked perfectly.

Blackberries.

And then she would hide, hide behind the bushes that grew luscious, bulbous berries, heavily filled with thin, blackish-blue liquid that she would squeeze softly out onto her hand, and she would brush it against her face with her wet fingers, creating the illusion of eye shadow, lipstick, anything she wanted, and her mother would only ever suspect that Victoire had simply been sneaking the berries from the bush to eat, not to use as makeup.

Black, sticky and stained hands brushed a few strands of hair out of her face, and she smiled, staring at her reflection in the water, and at her now beautiful face.

oOo

Victoire couldn't remember a time she felt worse.

A gorgeous red dress with a skirt that hung just above her knees wrapped fittingly over her slim body, her hair flowed down in waves of strawberry blonde just above her shoulder blades, and strapped red shoes were held loosely in her hand as the now seventeen year old girl stared at herself in the mirror, a frown, and layers of makeup on her face.

Alright, so maybe it wasn't layers, but it felt like layers. She wore only a thin amount of mascara, her eyelids were sprinkled with a light gold powder, and her lips were rosy pink. Victoire never favored red, no matter how much her mother and almost all of her friends said she should. No, she preferred pink, but she didn't really know why.

One would think that a girl of her age would enjoy a night out to a fancy French restaurant for her birthday, and Victoire had. It wasn't like all her past birthdays, where the whole party might as well have also been called a family get together. Not only were they celebrating Victoire's birthday, but also the victory of the second Wizarding War. Although, sometimes, it felt like that was the only thing this day reminded everyone of. The victory and not Victoire.

She fell to sit atop the seat of the toilet, and she let the strapped shoes she held fall onto the floor. A very expensive birthday gift just for the evening... But she didn't really care.

A knock sounded against the door. "Hey, Vic!"

Louis, standing outside the room, called while his hand softly knocked. Well, not exactly soft... But not exactly loud either, as his almost always were. But this was Victoire's birthday and he probably felt he should treat her a little better than he normally did, instead - even though he was fifteen - of being the annoying little brother she was so used to. But Victoire had been looking downcast all evening, and he figured he should go easy on her.

Victoire sighed, and got up and moved towards the door.

"What is it?" she asked, opening the door. Her voice sounded tired.

"C'mon, Vic!" Louis grabbed her shoulder and attempted to pull her out of the bathroom. He succeeded, and amazed himself. "Uh... We're going to light your cake in a few minutes."

Victoire didn't say anything.

Louis blinked. "Don't want to miss that, do you?" he asked, gently and playfully slapping her shoulder, in what looked like a vain attempt to cheer her up, even though Louis wasn't completely aware of what was wrong.

It didn't work.

He kept trying. "Chocolate cake? You've always loved chocolate... And Uncle Ron's going to cut it, that'll be fun to watch, right?"

Victoire shrugged, and her brother stared.

"What's wrong Vic? It's your birthday. I've never seen you this down."

"I'm just tired," she replied, giving him a small smile. This shocked Louis even more. Victoire never smiled at him unless she was laughing at him. "But I'll go down." She left and walked down the hall towards the stairs, while Louis glanced into the bathroom where her shoes still laid on the floor.

He walked in and bent down to pick them up, before exiting and leaving downstairs with his sister.

The room downstairs was dark. But Victoire liked it like that. Not that she always did, though. She relished the light that got shined on her in school, she lived for the praise she got for her brilliance in classes, but she wasn't a Ravenclaw for nothing. This time though, she just felt like sinking back into shadows.

"Uncle Ron's going to attempt to cut the cake," Lily, sitting across from Victoire, whispered in her brother, Albus' ear. Albus in return, chuckled as that image crossed his mind.

Victoire sniggered, smiling at them. Uncle Ron wasn't exactly the complete idiot almost all his cousins thought he was, but they quite enjoyed teasing him.

She remembered when she was their age. Nothing seemed to bother her - everything and everyone around her seemed to ever only bring joy and laughter. That seemed so long ago, and being one of the oldest of your cousins didn't help, it just made it seem like it was so many more years ago than it actually was.

"Alright..."

Victoire shook her head at her uncle's voice. He was standing above her, cake knife in hand, looking slightly offended at all the jokes of him that were going around.

She watched as her Aunt Hermione's hand lifted to lower Ron's. He glanced at her before looking at Victoire. He gave her a small, nervous smile, which she returned.

As the knife sunk deep into the cake, Victoire lifted her hands as soon as Ron had cut halfway through so they both could guide it down. She closed her eyes.

_Make a wish_, a voice in the back of her mind insisted. _Make a wish..._

It took her a while to realize that her eyes were closed. She opened them and saw that Ron had taken his hands away and now only left her to cut through the rest of the cake. She stared, for the first time in a long time, completely unsure of what she wanted to wish for.

_She felt lost, but not a bad kind of lost. She giggled, as waves of colorful and glittery fabric tangled themselves around her tiny form._

_She pulled, a hanger fell, and she giggled even louder as a large dress draped itself over her eyes. Victoire, like any five year old girl might, became immersed in her grandmother's closet, fascinated and hypnotized by the colours and fabric that swirled around her._

_Disregarding her mother's words, "Don't go in zat closet, don't touch anyz'ing," she slid the long dress over herself and stepped into a pair of strapped, red shoes far too big for her feet, and walked out to face the standing mirror in her grandmother's bedroom._

_It wasn't a small room, but it wasn't exactly large either. It was warm and inviting, a creamy brown coated the walls and gold drapes hung over the windows. Picture frames of Victoire's mother as a child, with her sister and on her wedding day adorned the walls, along with photos of her grandmother with her husband. The Delacours had a reasonable amount of money and Victoire got the feeling that her grandmother enjoyed spending it more on accessories for her home rather than the home itself, observing the beautiful and ornate little perfume bottles that sat atop the vanity, walking over the many expensive looking rugs and passing the huge Grandfather clock in the sitting room gave her this impression. But Victoire loved it like that - she could spend hours in that house._

_She walked unsteadily over to the mirror to gaze at the reflection of herself in red shoes and an elegant dress. She smiled at herself, feeling - if that were possible - even more beautiful than she did wearing the juice of blackberries upon her face._

_She looked down at the shoes. They didn't match at all with the dress she wore but to her, they did, and she felt beautiful with them on._

_She kept them on - or tried to keep them on - as she stumbled down the stairs to meet her mother and grandmother, a wide smile on her face._

_"Mummy!"_

_She entered the sitting room, where Fleur and her mother were chatting over tea near the window. Her voice had carried through the room and Fleur turned her gaze onto her eldest daughter._

_Her jaw dropped, and met the same horrified expression of her mother sitting across from her._

_"Victoire!"_

_Victoire's smile dropped to a frown, confusion lining her face along with slight alarm._

_"Victoire Weasley!"_

_Victoire winced at her mother's yell, staring at her with wide eyes that began to fill with guilt, alarm, confusion, and tears._

_"What?" Tears poured down her face as Fleur scooped her up, beginning to climb the stairs back up to her grandmother's room._

_They reached the top of the stairs and Fleur set Victoire on the edge of the bed. She slipped the shoes off of her daughter's feet and carefully pulled the dress up over her head._

_"Mummy!" Victoire protested, but she let her mother pull the things off her, still confused as to what was wrong._

_"I told you not to go in z'here!" Fleur chastised, taking her mother's dress and shoes and putting them back in the closet, of which she locked with her wand once she came out. "You know you're not supposed to touch your grandma's z'ings!"_

_"But mummy!" Victoire jumped off the bed, staring up at her mother with tear filled eyes. "I look pretty with that on!"_

_"You always looked pretty, darling," Fleur said, crouching down to scoop her daughter back into her arms, who was now wailing._

_"I want to wear those things! I want to wear those shoes! Can't grandmamma give them to me? She likes me!"_

_Fleur was shaking her head. "You are too young to wear zem, anything like zat. Maybe we'll get you something like zat ven you're older." She tilted her daughter's chin. "Would you like zat?"_

_Victoire nodded, even though there was a voice in the back of her mind was saying You won't._

_Fleur kissed her forehead. "We'll get you shoes like zat when you're older."_

Victoire came back to earth, lost in her own memory. She could remember that so clearly, and she had finally gotten those shoes, after wishing for them almost twelve years ago.

She glanced at her mother, who was smiling at her, along with her father, who was placing the red shoes she had back into their box, Louis having obviously handed them over.

Bill smiled encouragingly at her, as she felt a gentle prod and hand pinch her bottom.

She jumped, and felt a slight blush creep up onto her cheeks as she realized who had done that, glancing out the corner of her eye at Teddy, who was sitting next to her. He winked at her, careful to make sure Bill wasn't looking.

_She was sitting, crossed legged on the ground outside The Burrow. Watching as Teddy, flying above her on his broom swerved towards the right of one of the goal hoops._

_He drew his arm back, and pitched the Quaffle with all his might to the hoop and at her Uncle Ron, who was the Keeper._

_It was only Ron and Teddy in the sky, with Vic on the ground, watching them while everyone else was inside. She played with the bristles of her broom, a birthday gift from Teddy, and narrowed her eyes. She knew exactly why he had gotten it for her. Not because he thought she'd want something like it, definitely not, he knew she hated Quidditch, but because Teddy would give anything to get her up in the air. She had never tried flying before anyway, and while Uncle Ron turned on his broom and kicked the Quaffle back out at Teddy, she began to wonder why he so badly wanted her to start flying._

_Maybe he just wanted something to laugh at. Well, he would surely get it. She was rubbish at flying, she had to be. Besides, everyone told her that she was exactly like her mother, and Victoire knew that if that we're true she would surely bruise herself by simply trying to get off the ground._

_She sighed, and as any ten year old girl might, rolled her eyes as the boy above her practically beamed with pride - arrogance - and flaunted himself on his broom. Teddy was only twelve, and was already beginning to act like a sixteen year old. At least in the eyes of Grandma Molly, and almost every other adult female in her family._

_He landed; Teddy looked at her and grinned. "Victoire!"_

_She sighed again, and got up and moved over to him, meeting his joyful face with her moody and bad-tempered one._

_"Get on this thing." He moved behind her, taking the broomstick in her hands and shoving it under between her legs. She gripped the handle. Her heart beat picking up. Alright, so he really was going to make her do this._

_He moved to stand in front of her again. "Like this," he said, gently pushing her hands into the correct position on the handle._

_She turned irritated eyes onto him. "I knew that."_

_He couldn't help but smirk. "Why didn't you do it right the first time then?" he asked, mounting his broom and sending a hand signal to Ron, who was still in the air, waiting. Ron looked up from adjusting his gloves and nodded in return, glancing at Victoire, before looking down again._

_Victoire's hands hadn't moved one bit, but her palms were beginning to sweat and she felt her pulse pounding in her neck, nerves beginning to kick in. She looked towards Teddy's back and asked in a loud voice, "Why are you making me do this?"_

_"Because I want to fly with you," he replied, turning to look at her. Realizing what he had said, he fought with all his might to hold down a blush. He succeeded, adopting the same smirk he had worn earlier._

_"But why me? Why not one of the boys?" she asked, her legs beginning to shake slightly._

_"Because they're all too young," Teddy said, as though it were obvious. "Besides, Grandma Molly won't let any of them out here." Noticing her discomfort, he got off his broom and moved to stand behind her back, holding her sides._

_"What're you doing?" Vic asked, flinching slightly at his touch. Teddy held off on his grip, but only for a moment._

_"I'm going to help you," he said, and fought again to hold down a blush as he glanced up at Ron, who was smirking slightly, he instead narrowed his eyes at Vic's back, trying to distract himself. But it was a little hard, standing there behind her, his hands holding her sides._

_"But I can do it!" She tried to shake him off. "Let me go! I can do it myself!_

_"No you can't," Teddy said, keeping a firm hold on her. "You don't want to do it; therefore, you're not going to try, so of course you're not going to be able to do it."_

_"I can!" She fought more, twisting herself away from him, eventually making her way out of his grip. "If you would just let me! I can do it! Let me do it!"_

_She was looking at him with such defiance, he couldn't fight with her. He sighed, giving in, and turned irritated eyes onto Ron, who was still smirking._

_He summoned his broom. "Fine." He gripped it tight as it flew into his hands. "I'll see you up there then." He mounted his broom and threw a sharp kick to the ground, and as he flew up he stared straight into the clouds above them, before he came level with Ron in the middle of the open field. He looked down at Vic and gave her an expecting, almost impatient look._

_She narrowed her eyes at him and her uncle, who both were staring at her, waiting for her, but she really didn't know what to do._

_She mounted her broom, just how Teddy had done, and gripped the handle tight in her dainty hands. Which normally had never any form of contact with dirt, sweat, wood, or anything that went hand in hand with the game of Quidditch, but she ignored the increasing nerves that were building up in her, and lifted her leg, just how Teddy had done, and kicked off from the ground._

_Teddy smiled. His impatient look might as well have been an act, because it had changed so suddenly and showed no traces as he watched Victoire rising in the air. Although, rather unsteadily..._

_He frowned, and his face began to become one of slight panic._

_"Vic!"_

_"What?" she called, turning narrowed eyes up to him. She quickly resumed staring at her hands as she felt her balance wane even more. Her broom began to shake as well._

_She looked up at Teddy, whose face mirrored her own panicked expression as her uncle Ron disappeared from his spot near the goal hoops. She felt a strange sort of feeling rise in her stomach as her eyes moved from the handle of her broom to the sky. She didn't know what happened next, all she knew was that she was falling, falling from the sky. Her eyesight painted with blue and sunlight before a rush of dirt and mud came and slapped her down into a near ditch._

_She tumbled, her screams becoming silent as the grunts of her uncle Ron became louder. She was in his arms, she was safe, but she felt far from it._

_"THEODORE REMUS LUPIN!"_

_She and her uncle came to stop after rolling in mud for a few good few seconds. She whimpered, and tears began to form in her eyes as she watched as Grandma Molly stomped outside to the field towards Teddy, who had landed, with a face mixed with panic, guilt, and fear, of what she was sure was for Grandma Molly's rage. She couldn't help but feel anger boil up inside her at the sight of him as well. This was his fault. She had fallen and landed in a ditch and it was all because of him._

_"WHAT DID YOU MAKE HER DO? I KNEW I SHOULD'VE NEVER LET YOU GIVE HER THAT THING! THIS IS WHY I REFUSE TO LET THE BOYS OUT HERE! THANK MERLIN RON WAS OUT HERE! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT COULD'VE HAPPENED!"_

_Teddy stared at his shoes, his broom abandoned behind him on the ground. Victoire thought she felt his eyes flicker over to her for a split second, but dismissed it. No, he didn't care. If he did he wouldn't have made her come out here._

_Ron padded her muddy hair down, watching the angry and pain filled tears roll down her face, his eyes flickering between her, Teddy, and his still screaming mother. "It's okay, Victoire."_

_"No, it's not!" she whimpered, not having the energy to yell. Ron picked her up and began to stride across the back lawn, carrying her over to the entrance of the house. Teddy watched him, while Vic buried her face in her uncle's robes. She refused to look at Teddy, let alone look at him looking at her. She was a mess, muddy, scratched and probably bruised, not her pretty self anymore. She just wanted to go dive into the nearest river, pond, or any body of water around just so she could rid herself of the dirt and mud. She lifted her head and saw her reflection in the window. She felt ashamed, she really was a mess._

_Molly took a deep breath in and spotted her son with Vic in his arms. Her eyes softened, and she strode over to walk alongside him._

_"Take her inside, upstairs into the bath, I'll clean her up," she said. Vic softly began to cry, bringing her hands up to her face._

_"It's okay, dear. You're alright," Molly said softly, taking Victoire's hand in hers as she opened the back door that led inside to the kitchen. "You!" she called to Teddy. "Get in here as well; I have to send an owl to your grandmother."_

_Teddy looked for a moment like he wanted to go back and retrieve his broom, but decided against it and walked, head down, towards the house._

_Ron quickly brought Vic inside and scrambled up the stairs, while Molly ushered Teddy in through the door. Vic tried to ignore the stares of her cousins as she and her uncle crossed through the living room, and while they climbed the stairs she actually decided to listen in on what they were saying. Screams of 'What happened to Vic?' echoed from the mouth of her sister, Dominique, while Louis, along with almost all the rest just stared. She wondered where her mum and dad were. She cried even louder. She wanted her dad._

_Ron made it to the bathroom and set her atop the toilet seat, just as the sounds of Dominique beginning to pad up the stairs sounded through the house, only to be blocked by what sounded like Fleur. He heard the voice of Fleur and the protesting screams of Dominique as Bill began to come down the hall. He looked into the room and spotted Victoire sitting, crying on the toilet, and Ron crouched next to her, holding her arms, in what looked like a vain attempt to calm her. Bill mentally shook his head - his brother really was rubbish at this._

_"What happened?" he asked, looking at Ron as he strode into the room to crouch down next to Vic. She took her hands away from her face and looked at him, into his soft eyes and stared at him, inwardly begging for comfort._

_"It was Teddy!" she screamed, as she flung herself into his arms the minute he had extended them out so he could hold her. Bill's eyes widened and he stared up at Ron._

_"It wasn't Teddy," Ron started. "It -"_

_"IT WAS!" Victoire yelled, and both men in the room winced. "It was! He made me get on the broom."_

_"Vic," Bill said softy, padding her hair down as she broke-down in sobs. He hugged her against his chest. "It's alright. I'm sure Teddy didn't mean that, he didn't want you to get hurt, trust me."_

_She didn't respond to that. She just cried._

_While she did, even though she was quite loud, Ron attempted to explain again. He looked at his brother. "Teddy and I were out, he wanted her to come up and try out the new broom he gave her, you know, and... She fell," he finished lamely, staring at Bill with slight nervousness, wondering if he would be upset that he hadn't reacted quicker to that._

_He sighed. "Don't worry, I'm not angry at you," he said, continuing to try and calm Victoire, rubbing her back and padding down her muddy hair._

_Ron straightened up, and ran a hand through his own muddy hair as Molly scrambled into the room, wand out, Fleur behind her._

_"Where does it hurt, dear?" Molly asked softly, shoving Ron out of the way and crouching down beside Bill, Fleur doing the same, staring at her daughter with fear and panic in her eyes._

_"Everywhere," she muttered, tears still streaming down her face._

_Fleur gently pushed the sleeves of Victoire's robes up and cringed as she saw the mark of where a small tree branch had most likely stabbed her in the arm, along with small bruises and she pointed out large scratches across her daughter's face. Molly immediacy went to work healing the wounds the best she could. Once she was finished, Vic had stopped crying, and was again sitting atop the seat of the toilet as Molly went over to Ron, beginning to do the same thing to him._

_"Are you alright, darling?" Fleur asked, pushing a few strands of Vic's now clean hair out of her face._

_Victoire nodded, looking immensely more cheerful than she had before, with dry, but wet eyes._

_Bill kissed her forehead. "Lily just finished putting candles on your cake, want to come down and blow them out? Don't want to disappoint her, do you?"_

_Vic smiled slightly. "No." She slid off the toilet seat and onto the floor. Watching as Grandma Molly placed her wand back in the pocket of her apron._

_She smiled at Victoire. "No, we don't want to disappoint her. Come on now." She ushered them all out of the room. Victoire bounced down the stairs, her mind completely off what had happened earlier, and Teddy._

_Moments later, she sat at the table in the dining room of The Burrow, surrounded by her cousins, and Aunts and Uncles, resisting the urge to plug her ears as that same familiar song coursed throughout the house. Once that was over, and her father had lit the ten candles messily placed atop the cake, she stood up and thought for a moment. She was ten years old, and seemed to have already run out of things to wish for. Though, there were still those strapped, red shoes, which she still hadn't gotten and she had been wishing for forever. She glanced around the table and at the faces of her parents, her cousins, Aunts and her Uncles, and Teddy._

_Teddy._

_She narrowed her eyes at him. He looked thoroughly worn out, having obviously been pummeled with words by several people that evening. Vic wouldn't have been surprised that they were all female. Bill simply scowled him slightly, not looking completely angry but not completely sympathetic either, while the rest of the men in the room seemed to just ignore him. As if nothing had happened._

_She looked back down at her cake and candles, taking a deep breath in, she knew what she was going to wish for. She spoke in her mind._

_"I wish to be rid of that Teddy Lupin."_

"Vic?"

She shook her head. Her father had spoken, and she looked at him.

"Are you alright, Victoire?" Fleur asked, looking at her daughter with slight concern. How long had they been sitting there anyway, waiting for her to make a wish? Granted, she always took a while, but this time it was probably longer than ever.

She shook her head. "Yes. I'm fine. Sorry." She glanced at them all, just as she had done seven years ago on her tenth birthday, before looking back down at her cake and candles. The wax of the candles were slowing dripping onto the frosting below, and the light emitting from the flames dimmed as they became thinner.

_Make a wish_, that same voice echoed in her head. _Make a wish. Make a wish!_

She blew the candles out and caught almost everyone by surprise. Half of them jumped back as smoke flew into air as the flames diminished. Victoire sat back, staring at the little, half-melted candles.

Someone at the table clapped in the darkness.

"Alright, so can we eat it now?" Hugo's face became illuminated by the light of his Uncle Harry's wand. Lily put her hands down.

Dominique snorted as Grandma Molly said, "Yes. Be patient." She gestured for Ron to get up again. He did so, and began to cut a number of slices of cake for everyone at the table.

Hours later, Victoire sat on the sofa in the living room, watching the waves of the tide flow onto the rocks outside her family's cottage. She glanced at herself in the mirror hanging above the mantel. She still had her makeup on, but had changed out of the red dress she wore earlier and now wore a thin, blue T-shirt, jeans and slippers. She felt comfortable, and with the way she sometimes insisted upon dressing up before going out anywhere, amazed herself that she would actually like wearing something like this. Even to bed.

She sighed, listening to her mother and Dominique talking in the kitchen as they finished cleaning up. Louis and Bill were at the table, picking up any remaining pieces of rubbish that lay on the floor. Vic had attempted to help earlier, she needed something to preoccupy herself anyway, but all of them had insisted she'd do whatever she wanted. This, at the current time, was nothing. There really was nothing she could do to amuse herself.

She leaned her head back, the sounds of her Cousin Lily's running footsteps echoed down the stairs off the wooden floor above. Victoire felt a pang of annoyance at the sound but couldn't feel bitter. After all, it was practically Lily's job to annoy her, that little girl adored her, but she thought she'd been through enough with Louis when he was younger. Her footsteps soon died, though, Ginny having obviously managed to wangle the girl into the bed. The two were staying in the guest bedroom for the night. Fleur had looked slightly disgruntled when Bill agreed to let them stay, but it didn't really bother anyone else, even Victoire, who knew Ginny was only staying because of Lily, who wouldn't stop talking and asking her older cousin questions all evening. She was seventeen - it must feel strange to be an adult.

Victoire had to admit, it really did.

And Teddy was never any help. He also was staying for the night, having lost a bet with Bill that he wouldn't break anything trying to open the champagne bottle, which of course he had, so he now had to sleep on the sofa in the living room - he would've gotten the guest bedroom - Teddy had already planned on staying the night - for reasons unknown to Vic - but expected to get the guest bedroom, but now Ginny and Lily occupied that small space and he got stuck with the sofa. Victoire sniggered, knowing how uncomfortable it was to sleep on. She'd been punished enough over the years to know, and she couldn't help but find the fact that Teddy was practically stuck here and had sleep on it.

She sat there for a while, until the light outside was now completely void from the horizon. The stars shined bright in the sky and she stared, mystified, she had sat out there for hours years ago, she remembered, painting her face with blackberry juice...

She tried to shake her head at that thought, but this was something that had been ingrained in her mind. She was beautiful with that juice on, it made her beautiful, just like she always wanted, but now she wore makeup and felt rather strange. She didn't feel the way she did with the juice upon her face. The juices of the berries were natural, this makeup wasn't natural, it simply covered her up, but if she put the juice on it would only make her look enhanced. She figured that was what makeup was supposed to do, but it never did, like she always thought it would, not for her, anyway.

She again tried to shake her head. Who puts berry juice on their face? She had makeup now! She didn't need the juice anymore. But she felt like she did, whenever she wanted to look beautiful, it had become a need.

But that was years ago... It felt so long ago. She was seventeen; she was only three when she had discovered the berries' juice. It couldn't be a need anymore. She could be beautiful whenever she wanted to be now, she had almost everything she ever wanted, and she was only seventeen. Beauty, love from her family, this had been the only time where everyone's minds had been completely off the victory of the second Wizarding War, they only focused on Victoire. All attention had been entirely on her. She finally had those strapped, red shoes she had been wishing for years, and Teddy had long ago stopped hanging on her. Although, she couldn't help feel deep in her heart he wanted to.

The looks he gave her, the things he did for her, he had to be the sweetest person she had ever met, he had changed that day she'd fallen off that broom...

She didn't know why, and she felt slightly scared because of it, but Teddy did something to her. He made her heart race, he made her face flush, he made her want to stay, he made her want him to be around, he calmed her even when he didn't need to, when he didn't need to try but did anyway.

She was scared. What was this feeling? Why did she not hate him anymore?

She stood up, finally managing to shake her head at her thoughts. She was being silly; there was nothing about Teddy that bothered her.

_Nothing at all..._

And the blackberries.

_They haunt me..._

_'They scare me..._

_He scares me..._

She lay on the tile floor of the bathroom later that night, everyone else asleep, she was a night owl, she could handle it, what was a white cloth held in her hand as the half-moon's light shone on her face, makeup smeared all over her palms.

She had shocked herself. She was really wearing all that? The makeup coated her hands and the cloth was black, her face had been ruined...

She felt like it had been ruined. But everyone had told her she was beautiful. Why did she feel like this? She never felt like this wearing the blackberries'' juice, she felt beautiful, she never felt ruined, even though her mother would always tell her 'You look like a mez!'

She needed something. She needed to feel beautiful. She needed to be beautiful.

She'd come to realize that makeup wasn't the answer. It didn't do anything for her.

Only one thing did.

oOo

Teddy tossed and turned. He couldn't sleep. And it wasn't just because of the broken springs in the sofa poking him in the back. He knew that.

He groaned, rolling onto his side. The springs beneath him squeaked.

He thought he heard crying, but figured it was only the sofa. He dismissed the thought from his mind. _Nothing was wrong._ But something was telling him that something was.

He mentally began to tick people off.

Bill. He never worried about him much. Surely a full grown man, wizard, would know how to defend himself. And if he was at the moment, Teddy thought everyone in the house would surely know it.

Fleur, same as with Bill, a slight difference but not much. He figured he'd certainly know if something had happened to her too. Plus, she was a full grown witch, quite a powerful woman once he thought of it...

Dominique, she was one that wouldn't mess around. She was a Slytherin, after all. Something told him it'd be quite hard for anyone to figure out what had happened to her if something had. And he could've sworn he heard a sob come from somewhere. Teddy couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Dominique cry. But she most definitely would've hid if she wanted to. She was a possibility.

Louis, the Ravenclaw, the one who would pick and yank at his hair when he was a baby. Teddy had decided very quickly that keeping it short was a good idea, especially around Louis. He couldn't help but narrow his eyes at the floor, now just realizing he had been lying with them open, the annoying little brat. Almost a crybaby in some ways, but certainly would never let someone take a hold of him. No, he had too much pride to let that happen. But Teddy was sure he'd definitely know if something was wrong with Louis. He hadn't heard a scream yet.

Yet.

_Victoire_.

A scream echoed in from outside. Rather faint, but loud enough for Teddy to shoot up on the sofa and bolt out from under the blanket.

He stood. Thinking for a split second he was just hearing things, until he heard footsteps sound from the back steps and run into cottage. He narrowed his eyes, as his hand shot across the small coffee table in front of him, searching for his wand. He felt his heartbeat pick up and his pulse beginning to pound in his neck. He looked to the staircase, where he heard the footsteps stop.

He slowly walked towards them. "Hello?"

Nothing.

"Who's there?" His voice became softer, seeing the shadow of a tall girl plastered against the wall.

"Vic?"

oOo

She froze, the minute she heard Teddy stir on the sofa and she stared, into the living room where she could see his form moving in the darkness. The only light that could be used was from the moon, which shined in through the curtains. She shook slightly. Not wanting to be found but too afraid to move. He'd hear her! He'd know if she decided to just dash up the stairs. And he'd surely follow her. But she didn't want to be seen. Her hands were black.

And her lips a blackish-blue, her eyes shadowed with blackberry juice.

She stood there at the foot of the staircase, a deer caught in headlights, waiting to be found. She'd accept this. She wasn't ashamed. She was beautiful.

She felt tears threaten to fall, and a sob fought to release itself from her throat.

She was beautiful.

Why was she crying?

"Victoire."

Teddy stared at her. The moon shining in through the windows illuminated her face, her porcelain skin, that beautiful skin.

He felt his breath catch in his throat, and when he felt like his heart would slow down it didn't, it only sped up. It was only him and Victoire in the room. It hadn't been like that for so long. She had never really hated him, but he never got the feeling that she liked him. But here she was, covered in he didn't know what, tears streaming down her face and softly sobbing, reaching out for him, looking like she'd do anything for comfort.

"Teddy."

He ran to her, catching her as she fell into his arms, sobbing while she buried her face in his nightshirt, gripping his collar. Teddy held her, not sure what to do, he had done this on many occasions but Victoire had never done this before. Run to him, reach for him, and look like she was almost crying for him.

"Vic. Vic." He stroked her hair, but she wouldn't relent. She kept crying, and Teddy slowly began to panic. What would Bill and Fleur do if they saw them both down there? Him holding her as she cried like this? Her face coated in muck. And although it didn't smell like dirt, it was making him sick.

"Teddy, Teddy," she sobbed, finally looking up at him, her eyes rimmed in black. "Help me. Help me! Please help me!"

Teddy stared, he really didn't know what to do, and for the first time he felt completely vulnerable. He never felt this way with Victoire, he always knew what was wrong and what to do for her. 'Some kids threw mud at you?' 'Those guys are jerks.' 'You're beautiful, Victoire.'

But this time, he didn't know what was wrong, and he didn't know what he could do for her. And it broke his heart to see her so broken.

"Teddy!" She began to sound desperate, tugging on his shirt. He didn't know what to do, and he couldn't just ask what was wrong, she wouldn't tell him. He knew she wouldn't tell him. But he had to do something; it pained him to see her like this.

"C'mon." He pulled her into the kitchen, and Victoire didn't fight him, she let him tug her quickly but gently into the room, his hands on her sides.

She came to realize she quite liked when he held her.

It never had really bothered her.

Teddy had taken a cloth and squeezed her against his side. Holding it up, he began to lower it onto her face

She didn't let him.

Her hand shot up and she gripped his wrist to keep him from coming any further with the cloth. Her eyes wide, she stared at him.

He stared back, looking confused. "Vic, let me help you! What is this stuff anyway?"

She slowly shook her head; two voices spoke in her mind. One the same she had heard earlier.

_Make a wish._

"Vic!" Teddy fought with her, but didn't go very far, realizing she wasn't fighting back. She simply stared at him.

"Vic? What's wrong?" he finally asked, even though he knew he wouldn't get an answer. He was staring at her with fear in his eyes. But not the same fear they held seven years ago out behind The Burrow. He wasn't scared for himself this time; he was scared for the girl in front of him, the one who stared at him with almost lifeless eyes. She wasn't saying anything. She only stared.

_Let him help you._

_But I'm beautiful._

_No, you're not. You're a clown. You're not a little girl anymore, you're a woman. You're beautiful._

_Not without the juice... I'm not beautiful..._

"I am beautiful."

Victoire finally spoke, but she still stared - only her lips had moved and Teddy had barely managed to catch what she'd said.

He leaned closer to her.

"What? You are beautiful. Victoire. What...?"

She stared, her mouth slightly.

Teddy began to panic, was she going insane? But what was wrong?

He looked towards the staircase and contemplated waking Bill and Fleur up. But he knew he'd be bombarded by questions and really wasn't ready to face that. He really didn't know anything.

"Vic." He shook her, trying to get her to speak again. "What's wrong? What did you do?" He looked at her face, at the black stains and her blue lips.

Her hand trembled, slowly rising to meet just below Teddy's sharp, blue eyes that perfectly reflected panic. Teddy stared at the first she had made after she reached into her pocket. He grabbed her hand, and gently pried her fingers apart.

There that sat in her palm, a blue, innocent looking blackberry.

Victoire was staring at him. Her face beginning to show emotion again as the tears came back.

"That? Where'd you get that?" he asked, looking at her. His eyes now the same shade of blue as the berry in her hand.

Her lips trembled. "Outside. They've always been there, in the bushes only down the hill... I loved them."

Teddy blinked. He knew she was trying to tell him something, but he didn't know what.

"What do you mean 'You love them?'" he asked, lifting the cloth and wiping where he could above her left eye. She actually let him do it this time, but took a sharp breath in.

"They make me beautiful," she said, watching his hand as he wiped the juice off her face. "They always have."

"Why would they make you beautiful? You've always been beautiful. You are beautiful, Victoire."

She looked down at the cloth in his hand, and then she looked at the window, where her reflection showed bright in the moon's light. Only her lips were dark now, Teddy had wiped everything else off.

"Not anymore," she choked out, before breaking down in sobs again.

"Yes, you are! Vic, you are!" Teddy shook her again, before taking cloth again.

"No I'm not. Not, not, withou -"

Teddy slapped the cloth against her lips, wiping the juice clean off her lips. "How long have you been doing this?" he asked, slowly starting to see where this was going.

Vic stared at him for a moment, shaking and her lips still trembled. "Years."

Teddy slowly shook his head. She had been doing this for years, since she was a little girl probably, and she'd been brainwashed by her own self, thinking she was only beautiful when she painting her face with squashed berries.

She took a deep breath in, looking like she was going to start sobbing all over again, before Teddy slammed his lips against hers. Glad that he had taken then juice off her lips before. He didn't want to taste them, he wanted to taste her. This beautiful girl, this beautiful woman, he'd been in love with for years...

He wondered if she had ever noticed. He didn't want to scare her, so he had stayed away all these years, but he loved her. Her smile could always brighten up his day, and she was so beautiful to him.

He gently pulled away, looking into her eyes.

She stared back at him, into his now soft blue eyes.

"I'll never be beautiful," she whispered.

"You already are." His hands went around to her back, and he pulled her closer and squeezed her against his body. "You've always been beautiful to me."

She didn't fight him. Instead, she closed her eyes and her hands rove up to hold onto his shoulders. She kissed him back. Well, if that was he'd always wanted... But what was this? She never imagined she'd ever kiss Teddy Lupin, her uncle's godson, the annoying twelve year old boy that she used to despise. But here she was, holding him, him holding her, letting him finally kiss her.

A light popped on. And for a moment, both of them assumed it was the moon peeking out behind a cloud. But no, it had come on too quick...

"Victoire?"

She felt her breath catch in her throat, and Teddy's heartbeat began to race again. Victoire looked towards the stairs, while Teddy just stared at her, too scared to do the same. That was her father's voice.

"You're normally in bed by this time. What -" He rubbed at his eyes, and pointed his wand towards the two standing in the middle of the small kitchen, shining light on them. Victoire stared at him, looking emotionless, like she didn't know what to expect. Teddy turned his head slowly to look at Bill, slight fear in his eyes and he thought for a moment about releasing Victoire, but didn't. No, she was his. He loved her. Of course he could hold her if she let him. He didn't care what Bill may say. He wanted her.

Although, he knew it wouldn't be good to show possession. This was Bill's daughter. He stared at the man who was staring back at him, trying to read him. What would he do? Teddy had gotten on quite well with Bill over the years, but he knew he was overprotective of both his daughters, especially Victoire. He watched as Bill slowly narrowed his eyes, standing up straighter.

"What are you doing with her?" he asked Teddy, in a voice that sounded as though he was trying hard not to sound angry, for Victoire's sake. Because he knew how she'd react. 'Stop it!'That's what she'd say, and she'd keep saying it until he did. But he wouldn't.

What was Teddy supposed to say? He was snogging her?

Victoire's eyes darted between Teddy and her father. "Dad?"

Teddy glanced at Vic, before looking fiercely at Bill. "I wasn't hurting her!"

Victoire inwardly groaned, before stepping away from Teddy and pushing herself against the counter as Bill strode over to him. His face etched with fury.

Teddy stepped back, realizing what he had done. 'Idiot!' Stupid. Yes, he really was a true Gryffindor.

"Bill? Bill!" Fleur looked down over the edge of the railing, having heard noise coming from the kitchen and had seen her husband climb out if bed. She raced down the stairs and into the kitchen, glancing at Vic, who was plastered against the wall in the corner of the room, and Teddy, before grabbing her husband's arm.

Bill looked at her, stopping, before looking back at Teddy, who was staring at him with fear lining his face. He then looked at the cloth that was lying on the floor, and a lone blackberry.

He looked back up. "What?" He looked at Victoire, who was shaking her head, her lips slowly beginning to tremble again.

Teddy raced over to her, pulling her into his arms. Refusing to let get like that again.

Bill narrowed his eyes as Fleur led him away into the living room. "Come on. We to talk about zes."

Teddy stroked Vic's hair. "It's okay, Vic." He glanced at the berry on the floor. "Ignore it."

oOo

"Bill." Fleur stroked her husband's hand as he leaned his head back against the sofa.

"She's an adult now. She's a woman, not a girl anymore, I know." He looked at her, giving her look as though asking her to guess what he was thinking.

She stared for a moment. "But she'll always be a little girl to you. Yes, I know. But she isn't anymore. You have to accept zat. What she's doing is normal."

He sighed. "I still can't get over -"

"Teddy? Yes, what did he do?"

Bill opened his mouth to speak, but Fleur overrode him again.

"Besides kiss her?"

"Just the way he looked at me. The way he said 'I didn't hurt her' as if he owned her. No one owns her. Even I don't own her."

"Exactly."

He looked at her.

"Let 'er do what she wants. She's 'er own person now and she knows what's good for 'er. And we've both known Teddy for years and I know he'll never do anyzing to 'er."

Bill stared at her. Not really sure what to think. He knew Teddy wouldn't actually do anything to Victoire either but the mere thought of it... It made him fear for her.

Fleur took his hand in hers and kissed his cheek. "She'll be fine."

He smiled at her, but it didn't reach his eyes. Leaning his head down onto her shoulder and closing his eyes. "I know."

oOo

With one flick of his wand, the berry juice that had spilled from Victoire's hands earlier disappeared from the floor, and Teddy looked up. Her face was on the table, her head supported by her arms and he smiled. She looked beautiful when she slept.

He picked up the berry that still lay on the floor.

"That's it."

It was more like a statement than a question, and Teddy looked into the face Bill, who was standing, leaning against the doorframe.

"She'd been doing it for years," Teddy said, turning to look at the berry again, his hair changing to match its dark color.

He shook his head. "No wonder she thought like that then." He strode into the kitchen and grabbed Teddy's shoulder, looking at Victoire and staring at her sleeping form for a moment, before looking Teddy straight in the eye.

'Don't hurt her, I know,' he thought, looking into Bill's hard face. He stayed silent, though. Knowing it was best.

"Take care of her, alright?"

Teddy stared back into Bill's eyes. He nodded sincerely. That was last thing he was ever not going to do to Vic. Take care of her. Even though he knew she could take care of herself, he'd be there for her.

Bill gave his shoulder a tight squeeze before letting go, and walking over to the table to lean down and kiss the top of Victoire's head. He turned around to look at Teddy and actually smiled at him, before leaving to walk back up the stairs.

Teddy stood there, slightly shocked but then shook it off. He always had gotten on quite well with Bill and he was glad that this wasn't going to break their bond. If anything, it might strengthen it. Well, he hoped.

He walked over to sit down beside Victoire. She stirred, and opened her eyes. She looked up at Teddy and smiled.

Teddy smirked. "I bet you heard everything, didn't you?"

She nodded, yawning, and went to lay her head back down on the tale before Teddy took her jaw in his hand and lifted her head so she was looking at him.

"Hang on," he whispered, kissing her lips. She smiled into his lips and kissed him back. Before laying her head back down on the table. Teddy did the same, roping an arm around her as he watched her go to sleep, eventually doing the same as well. The blackberry Victoire had pulled out earlier lay on the floor.

Forgotten.


End file.
